A Fic Meant to be Read While Drunk
by The Compendium of Steve
Summary: Just as the title says: a "story" written up for the sole purpose of being read aloud by a group of drunken friends, I now share with you. Perfect for a night of intoxicated reading.


**Somewhat Regrettable...**

Narrator: In this exciting latest episode of Recurring Domestic Abuse Sugoi, otherwise known as Love Hina, we find hapless, luckless and overall most unfortunate human alive Keitaro Urashimimamababa sulking around the halls of Hinata Inn, his new personal hell in an already insufferable life.

Keitaro: Oh woe is be to me, for a school ronin to try to get through an already exasperating existence of extenuatingly erosive errors. All I wanted was to try-hard my way into Tokyo U and be mildly less a loser at life, but instead I'm constantly being bashed and berated and bludgeoned for seemingly no reason, like I'm the punchline of god's ever-cruel jokes, with emphasis on the punch. What must I do to find some peace in this whacked-out house of homicidal sociopaths?

Narrator: That's quite easy, Keitaro: you must date them into submission!

Keitaro: Wah! What was that? Oh no, am I finally having psychosis from all the blunt trauma?

Narrator: No you are not, you slappywag.

Keitaro: Then who are you, cheery monotone voice?

Narrator: Why God, of course!

Keitaro: For realsies?!

Narrator: Well no, I'm just the Narrator. But I'm here to help you out of your predicament, good chum.

Keitaro: How can I trust you?

Narrator: Because unlike your creator, I actually exercise benevolence with lesser beings... my good chum.

Keitaro: Okaaaay. Assuming that I haven't actually gone crazy, how can you help me?

Narrator: Like I said before, you will need to get into the heart quadrants of your tormentors. If they sweeten up to you, then they'll have considerably less reason to bash your face in on a daily basis.

Keitaro: But how do I do that, if I never dated a girl before?

Narrator: No worries there, mate, for an advantage of having omnipresence on your side is that you get the ultimate cheat sheet in Swooning 101.

Keitaro: Oh boy howdy gee-wilikers! Tell me how it's done!

Narrator: Quite simply, young ward. The one thing you need to know is the importance of making a good first impression. You see, you're suffering endlessly because you suck badly at making yourself an appealing character. For shame, plopping into a hot spring without bothering to read the signs. What a clumsy reckless failure you are.

Keitaro: I resemble that! Uh, I mean resent that!

Narrator: Then prove us all wrong! I've taken the liberty of wiping everyone's memories of your existence. For your first lesson, you are to approach each one of them separately and introduce yourself in a manner that doesn't incite disgust and violence in them. Should you succeed, then you'll have finally broken the shackles of your miserable string of misfortunes.

Keitaro: Boy Howdy Mr. God-Narrator-Guy, that sure does sound swellerific!

Narrator: Excellent! Now let's start with an easy one: your aunt Haruka!

Keitaro: YEAH! Wai whuh?

Narrator: You gotta ease into these kinds of things, so why not start with family? And I'm not talking step siblings, uh-uh no way heck no to that!

Keitaro: Uhhhhhhh...

Narrator: Think of it as a trial run. Go on, let me see how you work it.

Keitaro: Okily dokily! Uh, hi there, aunt Haruka.

Haruka: Who're you?

Keitaro: It's me: you're nephew, Keitaro! Don't you remember?

Haruka: Never heard of 'im.

Keitaro: What!? But it's me, Keitaro! How can you forget? Oh god, have I become such a worthless loser that I'm not even worth remembering? Please, I'm sorry for failing so bad. Don't do this to me! I'm sorry! Don't let this happen to me! (Breaks down crying, assuming fetal position) Oh please god no, please remember, someone remember me, please, boo hoo hoohoohoohoohoohoohoo!

Narrator: Okay just stop that! What the heck happened? That was pathetic.

Keitaro: But but but my own aunt doesn't remember me, I ceased to exist. How can I keep it together when I'm effectively dead!

Narrator: I erased her memory, dunderdolt.

Keitaro: Oh, you did her too? That's a relief.

Narrator: Well clean yourself off, cuz that was most shamefur dispray! You're gonna need some serious work, but that's what I'm here for… Me have mercy on me. So first tip: An easy way to make a good introduction is to think of the other person as a friend you haven't seen in a long time. It makes you more relaxed, and once you're eased in then the rest will follow, no sweat.

Keitaro: Right, gotcha! Let's do this!

Narrator: That's the spirit! So here's the first test: Na-roshima Bomb Narusegway! Oh god I'm so sorry, that was terrible.

Naru: Oh, hello there. I don't believe we've met befo-

Keitaro: HI MY NAME IS KEI AND WE WERE LOVERS FROM PRESCHOOL AND WE'RE DESTINED TO MEET AGAIN AND GET MARRIED AT TOKYO U BE MY WAIFU AND WE MAKE LOTS OF BABBIES, VI SE VI?

Naru: EeeeeEEEEeeeEEEEeeEeeEEeEeEE, what's wrong with you!? Such a depraved pervert, I'LL NEVER BE TSUNDARE FOR YOU, BAKA! (Slaps with the force of humanity's most destructive, terrifying implement of death, whose sheer force brings silence to both victim and witness alike by the sheer indiscriminancy of its power. Wow, that got grim rather quick, eh folks?)

Narrator: Well holy crap, bub, way to spazz the freak out like that. You can't get too friendly from the get-go, or you look like some raving spurglord.

Keitaro: That could never happen: my neck is incapable of growing a beard!

Narrator: Whatever. Anyway, your next tip: open up by complimenting their looks. Acknowledge something that's nice or unique about their appearance; it's always an excellent ice breaker if done right. Ready not to screw this up?

Keitaro: I'm ready, Olmec!

Narrator: Wait, how'd you know… Nevermind. Okay, time to get a little "foxy" here. See, see that? That was a hint. Like, a big one. Now strut your verbal stuff!

Keitaro: Uh, right! Why hello there, madam.

Mitsune: Chuh, I'm not that old. Though you're mighty close to my age just from looking at you, big boy. *Drunken laugh*

Keitaro: Uh, yeah. I must say, you look nice.

Mitsune Miku: Nice in what way, big spender? *Inebriated giggle*

Keitaro: Oh uh, your eyes! They look real nice, and smart and unique. Like a fox's.

Mitsundere: Like a fox's, huh? Y'know people call me kitsune, myself included. *Alcoholic chortle*

Keitaro: That's very neat, heheh.

Mitsunatic: You know what else they say about foxes, lover boy? *Pissed guffaw*

Keitaro: Uh no, what?

Mitsunder Down Under: Well come with me and I'll show you, wink wink nudge nudge say no more. *Pancreatitis-induced chuckle*

Keitaro: Wow, sure!

 **3 Hours Later…**

Keitaro: Uggghhhh, my head. I must've drunk too much; can't remember anything that happened. But where's my wallet, and my pants, and why do I feel light one kidney?

Narrator: Wow, hadn't expected it to go like that. Well, don't beat yourself up over it: that was your best attempt so far. Now let's reel it back and try that again, but with someone less likely to knife you in a dark alley for the three hundred yen in your back pocket. I'm talking Easy Modo: dear sweet innocent Fefeta, uh I mean Shinobu.

Shinobu: Um, hello? Who's there?

Keitaro: Oh hi there. My name is Keita-

Shinobu: EEEEK! (Run away) MY FIRST MAN PENIS AIEIEIEIEIAIAIAIEIEIEIEIA!

Keitaro: Hey wait, what's the matt-

Chris Hanson: SIND DIE JAGER!

 _What followed was the most orchestral, intense beatdown of justice ever called upon by a TV personality with spiffy hair._

Keitaro: Oww, I can't feel my everything…

Narrator: Did you seriously forget to put on a pair of pants? You be trippin' big time, my twinkie. Okay, I healed you of your wounds, as well as your missing kidney. Now go get on the good side of the local Indian dish oh crud that came out so wrong.

Keitaro: Hello? Hello, is anyone there? I'm Keitaro, and I just wanted to say-

Su: SURPRISE GLOMP ATTACK!

Keitaro: OH GOD MY VIRGIN FACE GET YOUR LEGS OFF WAAAAAAHH!

Su: But Su-Su-Suberu wants a ride on the pervert! Wheee this dirty man is giving me such a ride! So rough and bouncy, I never felt like this before!

Keitaro: Stop saying things!

Naru: Ah-HA! Caught in the act of molesting a small child! Taste my fist, Baka-Moronogatariiiiiiii!

Keitaro: OH GOD WHY-

 **We knew this fic wouldn't be any different. A few people laughed, a few people cried, most people were silent. What did we expect? That punch simply screamed out: "Now I am become Trope, Destroyer of Originality." In the end, the future refused to change.**

Narrator: Well I figured that would end horribly. Right, there's just one last girl to work your charms on.

Keitaro: Are you sure? What about Otohime?

Narrator: We're not at that point in the story. Okay hot shot, last chance. Go!

Keitaro: Uh hi there, um, my name is Keitaro.

Motoko: Salutations. I am Motoko.

Keitaro: Well nice to meet you. Say, that's a nice boken you got there.

Motoko: Indeed. It's one of my personal favorites.

Keitaro: I see you're wiping it down.

Motoko: Of course. Weapon upkeep is very important for a warrior.

Keitaro: That's cool. You know, I'd probably want to get into swordplay myself. You could probably teach me a few things. I mean, you're seem pretty skilled when it comes to polishing swords.

Motoko: What was that?

Keitaro: Oh nothing. Just saying the way you care for weapons the way you do, a lot of guys would want to get lessons from you. Maybe some girls, too.

Motoko: Are you insinuating something, you odious pig?

Keitaro: Oh no no no, I'm not insinuating anything! I'm only remarking that it's very handy to know how to rub up hard, blunt objects with hands as firm and tender-looking as yours oh my god what is coming out of my mouth-

Motoko: Swine! I shall not tolerate your slander! For the sanctity of this already filthy world, I banish you the the Nine Hells with this Battering Stick of Battering! Pray to your fell gods, scourge of innocence!

Keitaro: WAAAABAGABAGOOOO!

 _Puppet Pal Clem, there's a spider in your bed! BONK! (Oh god I'm such a nerd)_

Narrator: What was that? What the heck was that? You pretty much had it!

Keitaro: I'm sorry! It's just seeing pretty girls handling long objects makes my brain tell my mouth to talk in innuendoes!

Narrator: Well that was the last one, and you blew it. I tried to help you out, but you're clearly incapable of improving yourself when given the chance of a fresh start. So I'll return you to your unending hell of physical and mental torment cuz clearly the only way you can become something resembling a fraction of a man is through years of unrelenting misery and pain!

Keitaro: B-B-B-But God-senpai! You said you were benevolent!

Narrator: Well you done stupided it out of me. Now I'm done noticing you, so I'm hopping on the next pimpmobile outta here away from this farce of rom-comery. Peace!

 _And so the Narrator did, in fact, hop on the next departing pimpmobile and returned to his cramped studio apartment, whereupon he took a good long hard look at his life and the lives of everyone who ever wrote derivative Love Hina fan fiction. Then, using a noose made up of all the words put towards making said derivative fiction, he hung himself, his dog Grammar, and his neighbors Story Pacing and Clever Writing, although there was nowhere near enough to hold up Suspension of Disbelief, or even Reader Interest._

 **Les Endes**


End file.
